


Being Monsters Does Not Mean We Cannot Take Care of Each Other

by Lexus (Beautiful_Ruin)



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: F/F, Jesus Christ can I write anything under 4K, Shifting Power Dynamics, because I always write spankings in like basically everything ever, couple of ass smacks but not really spanking, i know right you did not expect this from me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-21
Updated: 2020-08-21
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:20:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26023330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Beautiful_Ruin/pseuds/Lexus
Summary: V and Eve are stuck in a hotel room together. Cue V teasing and Eve getting off on pretending not to notice.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 14
Kudos: 182





	Being Monsters Does Not Mean We Cannot Take Care of Each Other

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RunningandCrying](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RunningandCrying/gifts).



> Thank you again! This doesn't measure up to the train!sex fic buuuuuut I like it better than I did earlier.

They go back and forth.

Villanelle steals Eve’s luggage. Eve steals Villanelle’s money and passports. Villanelle kills Bill. Eve stabs Villanelle. Villanelle ruins Eve’s marriage. Eve abandons Villanelle in Amsterdam. Everything has a point and counterpoint, and it works for them.

Now they’re sharing a hotel room, on the way back from the Forest of Dean, and Eve doesn’t remember whose turn it is to score.

Villanelle doesn’t remember either, but she always wants to score. “Why didn’t you get two rooms, Eve?” she asks, swaying her hips a little as she stands at the foot of Eve’s bed.

Eve is trying to read. “Because Carolyn is paying and I didn’t feel like calling her to say I freeloaded an extra room,” she says, looking at Villanelle over the top of her book. “It’s not because I want to spend the night in a room with you, if that’s what you were thinking.” She goes back to reading.

Villanelle gives up trying to get a rise out of Eve with words, and she crawls into her own bed, lying on her back with a luxurious sigh. Eve is not looking at her, but that will not last long. She unties her robe and lets it fall away from her body, and she has only panties on underneath. She knows if she overdoes it then Eve will not be interested, so she decides to keep her reactions genuine and not force any noises. Maybe she won’t even make any sound at all besides the rustling of fabric.

No, that’s unlikely. She grins to herself and flattens a hand over her belly, stroking up to her breasts, and feeling inspired, she pinches one of her nipples until it makes her gasp.

Eve’s head snaps toward the other bed and her eyes bug. Okay, so it’s obviously Villanelle’s turn to score. Because Eve can literally see her _breasts_. Just right there, five feet away, on full display, with Villanelle’s hand on one of her nipples, and _Jesus_. She has to say something, she can’t just sit here complacent and let this happen. “Can you at least get under the blankets?” she asks, trying to sound annoyed.

“ _Eve_ ,” Villanelle scolds. “It is hot in here.”

“It’s not that hot,” Eve says with a frown. “Put your tits away.”

“You don’t like my tits?”

Eve sighs and puts down her book. “I like your tits. Put them away.”

“If you like them, why do you want me to put them away?”

“Uh, because you’re being inappropriate?” Eve says, both eyebrows lifting. “Obviously.”

“We are all each other has anymore, Eve,” Villanelle says, stroking her other breast.

“God, don’t say that. If we are all each other has, we’re completely fucked. We’re both monsters, you realize that, right?”

“I have always realized that, even before you let your monster out of its cage. I have always said we are the same, Eve. And being monsters does not mean we cannot take care of each other.” She pinches her other nipple and bites her lip at the mild pain.

“No, it actually does mean that,” Eve says. “It means exactly that.” Somewhere in the back of her mind she realizes they’re having an actual conversation while Villanelle is basically masturbating, but really, this is not the strangest thing in their browser history.

“You are wrong, Eve,” Villanelle insists, pinching harder and letting out a little mewl of protest, even though she is aware that it is her own fault. “Eve, I want you to come over here to my bed...”

“I’m not having sex with you,” Eve says flat out.

“But you can see better from over here...”

“Except I’m not looking anyway, so...”

“ _Eve_.” She does her best to sound pouty and needy when she is anything but.

Eve snorts. “It’s not happening.” Is she tempted to look? Uh, yes, is she human? But she’s not going to. She picks up her book again and tries to read, fully knowing her eyes will be scanning the page and seeing no words.

Villanelle knows that Eve will give in soon enough, and she is hyper aware, staring at Eve’s face, looking for even a hint of movement in her eyes. She knows Eve will not turn her whole face, but if Eve cuts her eyes sideways just a little, she can see Villanelle, and _that_ is what Villanelle is waiting for.

Except Eve doesn’t. Eve’s eyes don’t leave the same page of her book, which is only a small victory – that she’s not really reading – but she is not giving in, and Villanelle doesn’t like it. She pushes one hand into her underwear and fuck, she’s wet. But she would be so much wetter if Eve was watching. Eve is ruining this and Villanelle clenches her jaw because Eve really likes ruining things for her and that is not very nice.

She swipes her fingers across her clit and her hips jerk a little, and she knows she said she wasn’t going to make purposeful noises, but Eve is not reacting to silence, so she looses a tiny moan, just barely audible, and pushes a finger inside herself.

Eve is devastatingly fucking soaked and her nipples could cut glass, and she makes sure to hold her book so Villanelle can’t see that, and she is so Goddamn tempted to just say fuck it and give in, but she doesn’t. Villanelle is not going to score, she’s decided. Maybe she won’t score either, but it is not gonna be Villanelle. Cocky little bitch.

Villanelle is on the verge of giving up; on the verge of frustrated tears, because for once in her life she wants something she cannot have, and it is killing her. Eve is not something she can take, steal or buy. Eve is not something she can intimidate into being with her. She can intimidate Eve, but not into wanting her. Somehow this realization hits harder than she is prepared for and she pushes out a shuddering breath, a word passing her trembling lips that she does not like to use. “Please.” It is a ghost of a whisper. 

Did Villanelle just say please? Eve barely hears it, but it sends shivers up her spine. She can’t, though. She shouldn’t. She really shouldn’t. She really can’t. She’s not going to. Except that Villanelle sounds like she’s about to cry, and as good of an actress as Villanelle is, that whispered word holds more emotion than anything she has ever heard out of this woman.

Eve had known right away that night at dinner when Villanelle gave a sob story about wanting out and needing help, even though it had been a good act. So she’s confident now that Villanelle is laid bare, honestly, and oh, is that _thrilling_. Having such a powerful person seeking her attention is fucking thrilling.

When Eve finally looks at her, Villanelle does not even think about gloating. She’s too raw and exposed, and for once she doesn’t want to turn everything into a joke. Doesn’t want to turn this into a joke. So instead of pretending she feels smug, she continues to show Eve how she really feels, which is... shattered. “Eve, do you—do you think I’m pretty?” she asks, pinching at her nipples again and pushing her finger a little deeper inside.

Eve is still struck by the vulnerability Villanelle is letting her see, and it still doesn’t feel like a manipulation. She knows that can change at any time, but right now, this is electric and... real. “I think you’re beautiful,” she says quietly. “I think... you’re probably the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen.”

Villanelle moans, a soft, pleased sound, her heartbeat thumping against her ribs at Eve’s words. “What do you feel when you watch me do this?” she asks, pulling her finger out and pushing smoothly back in, hips lifting to meet her hand.

Eve should really say ‘bored’ and go back to reading, but that would be a lie, and she doesn’t want to be outright cruel. “Wet,” she says instead, and the sound Villanelle makes can literally not be described. At least not in English or Korean.

Villanelle thinks this is Eve’s new plan to kill her. To say things like that from the far away recesses of another bed and not from right beside her, kissing and touching her and calling her beautiful again and again and again. “Am I—am I being good?” she asks, her voice hitching as she curls her finger.

Eve’s eyebrows raise. “Fuck no you’re not being good, you’re being naughty as hell...”

Villanelle whimpers a little and shakes her head. “No, I mean... for you, for MI6, helping you, do you think I’m being good?”

“Oh,” Eve says, her eyebrows going back to normal. But she wonders why Villanelle would ask that question _right now_ , so there must be ulterior motives. She’ll find out what they are. “Yeah, V. I think you’re being good.”

Villanelle’s free hand grabs up a fistful of bedcovers and she arches her back so sharply that Eve worries for her muscles. Ulterior motive identified. Villanelle likes to be told she’s good. This isn’t surprising. This can definitely work to Eve’s advantage.

“Do you want to be really good, V?” Eve boards the train to hell. Right there in the front car. “ _Really_ good?”

Villanelle groans. What does Eve mean by that? But of course she wants it no matter what it is. “Yes,” she says.

“Lose the robe and the panties.”

Villanelle almost comes, a shudder rocking through her that leaves her winded as she picks up her head to stare across the space between their beds. “Are you teasing me?” she pants. “You don’t—do you really want to see that, Eve?” She knows she should be thrilled, but she remembers Paris. Paris makes her nervous, even if she usually will not admit it even to herself.

Eve is definitely getting off on the power. “Aw, V, I thought you said you wanted to be good. Questioning me is naughty. You’re being a bad girl, baby.”

“No,” Villanelle chokes out, sitting up and shrugging out of her robe, then lying back down and tugging her panties over her hips, pulling them down and off, and she is naked. She is naked while Eve is completely clothed and still on her own bed, and this is not how she had pictured this going, not at all. She tries to decide if she will be upset, but Eve decides for her.

“Very good, Villanelle,” Eve says, ego trip still fully intact, her soul darkening just a little. “I don’t like it when you’re bad, understand?”

Villanelle hates for Eve to think of her as bad. It reminds her of other things, other times, other people, and she doesn’t want it, ever. “I am not bad, Eve,” she says, trembling. “Please, I am not bad.”

The alluring haze of power shifts out of the way long enough for her to recognize Villanelle’s cry for help, and she stands, walking the short distance, then sitting again, this time on the edge of Villanelle’s bed. And God, seeing Villanelle naked from over there was unbelievable enough, but seeing her close up is like some kind of wet dream. “You’re not bad,” she says, because while it is incredibly arousing to have this power over Villanelle, Eve doesn’t actually want to hurt her. Not like that.

The vise around Villanelle’s chest loosens a little and she’s able to breathe. “I am good, right?” she whispers.

Once again Eve is struck by the sincerity, by the difference between this Villanelle and the one that was sat at her kitchen table so long ago. “You are,” she says. “You’re good, V.”

“Then why don’t you want me?” The question is sudden and even Villanelle has no idea she is going to ask it until she hears her own voice echoing in her ears.

“I do want you. But sometimes wanting isn’t enough.”

“Wanting is always enough.” Why can’t Eve see that?

“Maybe that attitude is why I don’t think wanting is enough."

“What more is there?”

“Love. Re—”

“I do love you.”

“No you don’t.”

Villanelle stands up and moves between Eve’s knees, running a hand through wild hair. “Yes, I do. I love you, Eve. With every part of my heart that works right.”

Somehow that last sentence chokes Eve up even more than if Villanelle would have said with her whole heart. The fact that Villanelle knows she’s different but knows there are parts of her that work like everyone else, the fact that she’s not trying to hide who she is, that she is embracing her limitations and being honest about them, these things affect Eve on a sudden and deep level. And before she knows it she’s standing up, leaning forward, and she’s kissing Villanelle.

Villanelle is in disbelief for a moment, her eyes going wide, a moan quickly following. She puts a hand on the back of Eve’s head to keep her there. “Don’t stop,” she says, the warning muffled against Eve’s lips.

Eve chuckles at the bossy warning, but she has no intention of stopping. She is not a hesitant person. Once she makes a decision, she’s committed. She does tease a little, though, taking her time licking her lips with her mouth just a breath away, kissing and pulling back again; again; again, until Villanelle’s hand gets rough in her hair, squeezing and directing. She’s not going down without a fight, though. She pushes forward, making Villanelle back up, and pushes V down onto the other bed.

Villanelle bounces a little and laughs, and she intends to get right back up but Eve is on top of her, pressing her down with all of that fabulous body, and maybe she can stay here for just a minute. She groans and shoves a knee between Eve’s legs, and grins when Eve grunts at her. She lifts her arms to shove at Eve’s shoulders but Eve is quick and grabs her wrists, pinning them on either side of her head. Now Eve has the better leverage. “You caught me, but you don’t know what to do with me,” she says playfully, giving a half-assed struggle. “Unless you’ve been fucking troves of women behind my back.”

“Troves? No,” Eve says, shaking her head. “A dozen at most.”

“Eve!”

“What? I couldn’t really have you, could I?”

Villanelle’s jaw drops. “Are you serious, Eve? You have fucked a dozen women behind my back?”

“Can it really be considered behind your back if we’re not actually a couple?”

“Yes!” Villanelle shrieks. “You did not do it in front of my face so you did it behind my back!”

“Hey, you should be flattered. I wasn’t even into women until I met you. Take it as a compliment.”

Villanelle’s stomach goes sour. “It is not a compliment, Eve. It makes me want to stab you.” She manages to move her right arm far enough to push her fist into the spot on Eve’s body that mirrors the scar from her own stab wound before Eve wrangles her hand back to the bed.

Eve takes pity on her and relents with a laugh. “Relax, baby. I’m still a girl virgin.”

Villanelle narrows her eyes. “Your joke was not funny.”

“To you, maybe. I’m amused.”

“Let me go first.”

Eve squeezes her wrists harder. “Afraid I won’t be good enough if you don’t show me how it’s done?” 

“Of course not, it just does not make sense for you to go first,” Villanelle says, and she uses her legs to knock Eve off balance enough to get out from under her. She takes the opportunity to smack the seat of Eve’s trousers, then watches with a mixture of amusement and fascination as Eve pushes up onto her hands and knees and drops her head down between her shoulders. Villanelle’s breathing notches up at the silent invitation to do it again. She gets into a better position, just to the side, and spanks Eve again. “This would be better without pants on, Eve...”

“So get my pants off if you can,” Eve says.

“If I can?” Villanelle scoffs and reaches back to open the nightstand between the beds, feeling around until her fingers close over the handle of her switchblade and she takes it.

Eve hears the whoosh of Villanelle’s knife and tenses. She knows they’ve come so far but Villanelle with a weapon is probably always going to make her a little uneasy. She feels the blade at the back of her neck and holds very still.

“Undo your pants,” Villanelle says as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to pull out a knife during foreplay and demand things. Because to her, to _them_ , it is.

“Get that away from my neck first.” Eve offers a conditional surrender.

Villanelle waits a few seconds and then slowly withdraws, keeping the knife held in front of her, though.

Eve reaches a hand down and undoes her pants, pushing at them haphazardly until they finally slide over her ass and pool around her knees.

“Eve,” Villanelle says, her eyes lighting up. “You did not own these underwear when you were with moustache, did you?”

“No. Why?”

“Because that means you must have bought them for me to see.” She sets the knife on the nightstand.

“That’s presumptuous.”

Villanelle spanks her again and very much enjoys Eve’s moan. “Do you think room service would deliver a strap-on?”

Eve barks out a laugh. “Maybe if we had more cash.”

“This is true,” Villanelle says, thinking on it for a moment and then shaking her head. “I will have to make due with my fingers. They are quite talented and you will enjoy them just as much.”

“I’m surprised your head fit through the door.”

Villanelle spanks her extra hard for that one and Eve throws her head back. “Did moustache spank you, Eve?” she teases.

“Do you really want to talk about Niko right now?”

“You make a good argument. Can I fuck you?” She doesn’t want to cross THE line. There is a difference between playing and going too far, doing something she wouldn’t be able to undo.

“I hope you’re planning to fuck me, otherwise what am I doing on your bed in my underwear?”

“Accentuating the room’s décor? And this is your bed.”

“Villanelle, that’s—”

“Funny? Yes, I know. Much funnier than you pretending you have had sex with other women. Lay on your back, okay?”

“And if I like it from behind?”

Villanelle doesn’t want to be funny anymore and she grabs Eve’s hips, jerking her backward. “Do you want me to fuck you from behind, Eve? So you can’t see me? Are you going to pretend I am someone else?” There is a biting edge to her words. She does not like that idea.

Eve stops dancing around the issue too and rolls onto her back. “No,” she says, and she means it. “Never.”

Villanelle won’t admit she’s relieved, but she is. She drops her head and kisses her way across Eve’s belly, enjoying the squirm beneath her mouth. She curls her fingers around the elastic of Eve’s panties. “Are you sure?” she asks before she will remove them.

“No.”

Her heart skips a beat and she uncurls her fingers, panic starting to set in.

“Wait, that’s not—I mean no because—I didn’t mean it like don’t do it, I meant it like is anyone ever really sure about anything?”

“ _I’m_ sure!” Villanelle says, voice raised.

“Okay, anyone besides you? I didn’t mean for you to stop.”

“Well now you are going to have to ask me nicely to continue,” Villanelle says, not liking the way her chest had almost seized up and cracked all of the bones in her body.

Eve isn’t going to do that. “I’m really wet,” she says instead. “Fuck me.”

Villanelle growls and yanks her panties down, but she won’t give in. “Ask me nicely.”

Eve’s eyes sparkle. “No.”

“Eve.” Villanelle growls again. “Ask me nicely.”

Eve realizes that even though Villanelle is demanding something from her, it is still her choice whether to give it. So if she asks nicely, it’s not technically letting Villanelle have control... it’s giving Villanelle the illusion of control, because Eve is doing what she asks, but at the same time it’s giving Eve control, because Villanelle _needs_ this from her. Only she can give Villanelle what she needs. And Eve has denied her long enough. She reaches up and brushes a wisp of hair out of Villanelle’s face. “Please fuck me,” she says, her voice soft but full of feeling.

“Yes,” Villanelle says. _Finally_. “I will.” She drags Eve’s panties the rest of the way down to join her trousers and pulls them both off together, dropping them on the floor. “Eve.” She practically growls and she hopes she’s not drooling like a rookie. But come on, this is _Eve_ , so if she is drooling she can be excused. She wants Eve to be as desperate for her as she is for Eve, because so far the balance has not been centered.

Eve watches Villanelle, watches the spark light in her eyes, and she presses her knees tight together, enjoying the wounded look that rushes over V’s face.

“Eve! Your jokes are especially unfunny tonight,” Villanelle says with a frown.

Eve sits up and kisses her. “Listen, V... I’ve never had someone look at me the way you do or want me the way you do or need me the way you do. I can’t help it if it goes to my head a little and I have some fun with it. It’s new, and exciting, and the fact that it’s you who wants me this much is frankly a little mind blowing.”

Villanelle enjoys the kiss and the more Eve speaks, the wider her eyes get. She kneels on the bed next to Eve, searching her face. “Why is it mind blowing for me to want you so much?” She does not understand.

Now it’s Eve’s turn to feel vulnerable, but she supposes it’s only fair to be honest. “Because you’re like twenty-six years old and impossibly hot, sexy as fuck, and you’re this badass international assassin that can have literally any woman you want, so why me? I’m a lot older than you, I don’t wear fancy clothes, I don’t eat at expensive restaurants or go anywhere to get my hair and nails done... You’re glamorous and I’m not.”

“These are terrible things you say about yourself, Eve,” Villanelle says, cupping a hand to Eve’s cheek. “I do not think age matters at all, and I do not care if you wear clothes that are not like mine, and I like cheap takeout food as much as the next girl.” She had almost said horrible clothes but thankfully stopped herself. “And do you know what else, Eve?”

“What?” Eve asks skeptically.

Villanelle leans closer and whispers into Eve’s ear. “I do my own hair.”

Eve laughs, and it’s perfect, and she gives in, flopping onto her back and parting her legs for Villanelle’s hand, and then Villanelle is inside her, two fingers deep, and she groans.

“ _Fuck_.” Villanelle hisses, unprepared for how wet Eve is and how easily her fingers slide in. She revels in having made Eve this excited. She doesn’t want to think about moustache but she spares a brief second to curse him for being such an idiot and not making Eve feel beautiful and sexy and wanted. Okay, second over. She is now only thinking about Eve’s cunt again. “Is it enough?” she asks, because Eve is used to bigger things.

“God, yes,” Eve says honestly, being forthcoming because she doesn’t want Villanelle to compare herself to Niko. There is really no comparison. Villanelle is fire while he isn’t even an element. Villanelle is a goddess while he isn’t even a mortal. “You’re so much better,” she breathes before she has time to think about what that will do to Villanelle’s ego.

It turns Villanelle on too much for her to have room to be smug, and she pushes her fingers in harder, faster, and drops her head between Eve’s legs to lick and suck at her clit. She wants Eve coming in under two minutes.

Eve whines out a moan and rocks her hips up into V’s face, tangling her hands in the sheets. “Fuck... Villanelle...”

Villanelle sucks harder on her clit and flicks it rapidly with the tip of her tongue, over and over, relentlessly until Eve yells and tightens. Villanelle is proud of herself for achieving her under two minutes goal, and as Eve comes on her fingers, she slides them out and licks them clean and decides she is never leaving this room.

Eve is a little shellshocked at how fast Villanelle did that. When she can speak again, she does. “That was ridiculous. You—I mean, I don’t want your head any bigger but Jesus Christ, V. Wow.”

Villanelle lets it go to her head a little this time, but not too much, and grins at Eve, moving up to lay beside her. “You can pay me back by agreeing to live in this hotel room with me and never leave it.” At Eve’s skeptical look, she rolls her eyes. “Or by ordering me a pizza.”

Eve laughs and picks up the phone.


End file.
